


Unwarranted Addiction

by Trialia



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Episode: s01e17 Letters From Pegasus, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-18
Updated: 2005-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-03 02:15:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trialia/pseuds/Trialia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>You just can't get enough.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Unwarranted Addiction

**Author's Note:**

> My first piece for this fandom.

It's a rarely disputed fact among the Atlantean men-- and the women who swing that way-- that Elizabeth Weir is a challenge, the kind of woman no man-- nobody-- can ever get enough of. God knows _I_ can't. I want her more each time I see her, and it's getting increasingly difficult to concentrate when she's in the room. Which, in my position, happens to be a large chunk of the time.

Impossible lust. She is my commanding officer, the one woman that the damn _rules_ say I cannot fraternize with, in that sense of the word. Fucking her is out of the question, making love to her even more so; that doesn't stop how I feel around her and about her when she's not here.

Too many dreams. Those, I definitely can't control, and it bothers me. Dreams of having her under me, pressing wildly against me as my lips and tongue do what I think they've probably wanted to do since the first day I saw her. I still don't have a fucking clue what that elusive quality is about her that draws me to her so. Maybe if I did I'd know how to look for it in some other woman here on Atlantis-- someone who isn't _verboten_ for me. I've spent half the nights since we got here alone with my fantasies of her, despite McKay's insistence that I flirt with everything with a period and a pulse.

Her being attached was a barrier at first, but now that that's no longer an issue I find every night gets more frustrating. I respect her-- and, hell, love her-- too much to get her so drunk she'll forget the rules. I _can_ be a gentleman when it comes to women I care about, believe it or not, and I care about Elizabeth way too much. Far too damned much.

So I lay down. I close my eyes. And there she is, coming to me in my dreams again.

Always in my dreams.


End file.
